


The Sounding Joy

by bandedbulbussnarfblat



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Dysfunctional Family, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Family Drama, I gave Eliot a whole messed up family, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Kissing, M/M, Mutual Pining, Original Character(s), Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-29
Updated: 2019-12-21
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:06:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 12,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21608785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bandedbulbussnarfblat/pseuds/bandedbulbussnarfblat
Summary: Eliot goes home for Christmas, but he doesn't want to face his family alone.  Both his brothers are bringing their girlfriends, so he asks Quentin to go with him as his boyfriend.
Relationships: Quentin Coldwater/Eliot Waugh
Comments: 35
Kudos: 231





	1. I'll Be Home for Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be a fluffy Christmas fic, and it is, but at the same time it deals with Eliot having homophobic family members. In this fic, I've had Eliot's mom leave his dad, who was homophobic and abusive. He never shows up, but I thought I would give a warning just in case anyone wants to avoid anything like that even being mentioned. 
> 
> Also, I've completely made up Eliot's entire family. We never met them in the show and I've (still) not read the books. I've tried to make them believable characters who genuinely want to rebuild their relationship with Eliot. I've never done a fic with this many OCs before, so hopefully they turn out interesting enough.
> 
> Anyway, happy holidays and I hope you enjoy!

Eliot debated whether to answer the phone.

On the one hand, it was his mother and he had nothing to say to her. On the other, she only called if it was an emergency. He only saw his family at weddings and funerals, and he rarely went to those. Curiosity got the better of him and he answered, “Hello?”

“Eliot?”

His mother's voice sounded timid and frail, and it made something nasty curl up inside him. It was the way she sounded when she talked to his father, on those rare occasions when she tried to stand up for him. “Did someone die?”

“No, no, nothing like that. Everyone is fine. I was just calling to...” Here his mother's voice broke off, small and afraid. Eliot wondered if she had sounded this nervous the last time they spoke. He couldn't remember, it was so long ago.

“Calling to what, Mom?” he asked, gently as he could. Just talking to his mother was raising his anxiety levels to new heights. He thought he was past feeling like this. 

“To invite you over for Christmas.”

Eliot said nothing, too stunned to speak. For a long minute all he could hear was his mother's breathing on the other end of the phone. Finally, he spoke “I don't think that's a good idea.”

“Your father isn't here,” his mother said quickly. The words came out fast and jumbled and it took a moment to decipher them.

“What?”

She cleared her throat. “Your father and I are taking some time apart. He's...well, you know how he is. It's been a long time coming, what with the way he treated me. The way he treated you.”

Eliot laughed bitterly, “Oh, you mean like when he tried to beat the gay out of me?”

She inhaled sharply. “Yes, and I should have done more to stop him, to protect you.

“Yeah,” said Eliot, “you should have.”

He heard something that sounded like a sniffle and wondered if his mother was crying. She'd cry sometimes after his father had yelled at her again over something small and insignificant. He had been quick to anger and his mother had been quick to tears. She was weak, his mother, but it was partly from years of being worn down by his father. For the first time, Eliot felt something closer to pity than resentment toward his mother. 

“I can't change the past, but I want things to be different now. I want to have you back in my life. I won't ask you to forgive me, but let me try to make it up to you. Things will be better now.”

And wasn't that what he had wanted? Once he had wanted that so badly he could taste it, could feel the warmth of his parents' acceptance just out of reach. Maybe part of him still wanted it, because he found himself speaking without thought, “They couldn't be much worse.”

It wasn't a yes, it was far from a yes, but it wasn't a no either. That meant his mother had gotten some ground, and she'd be sure to press her advantage. “Come home for Christmas, just to try. If you decide we can't repair our relationship after, then I'll accept it. Just give me this chance.”

The stupid, yearning part of him wanted to say yes. It was a part he thought was dead. “I don't know, I already had plans to celebrate with someone.” That someone had been Margo, until she had made her own plans. But his mother didn't need to know that.

“Oh, your partner?” The word sounded strange coming from his mother's mouth. “Both your brothers are bringing their girlfriends, you could bring your boyfriend too. He'd be more than welcome.”

That wasn't an offer Eliot expected to hear. But it meant his mother was trying, and she had never shown the same hatred his father had. Her reaction had been entirely based on what she thought his father would think. And now his father was gone. A good mother would have kicked him out a decade ago, but she had not been a good mother. Maybe she could be one now. “I'll never get tickets this last minute.”

“I've already booked you two tickets for tomorrow. Just in case you said yes.”

She had booked two tickets, so she was serious about the boyfriend coming. It wasn't just a courtesy offer. It also meant she assumed he had a boyfriend, which was more generous than his reality. “I'll have to see if my boyfriend is okay with it.”

“Of course, I wouldn't want to cause any problems for you. You find out and be sure to call me back.”

“Yeah, I'll do that.”

It was an out, all he had to do was say his imaginary boyfriend said no. Except, part of him really did want to go home for Christmas. But he didn't want to go alone. Facing his family would be like facing a herd of zombies. And there was only one person he could think of that he'd want to face them with. If only he would agree.

Luckily, Quentin was in his room when he knocked. 

“Q, I need a favor.”


	2. All I Want for Christmas is You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julia and Margo hear about the boys' plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all the lovely comments. You are all awesome.

“You want me to what?”

Quentin couldn't quite believe what Eliot was asking. It sounded like something out of a cheesy fanfiction. But didn't those stories always end with the fake couple getting together? Maybe it wasn't such a bad idea after all...

“It's just for a few days. I can't face my family alone.”

Quentin could understand that. He wasn't looking forward to this Christmas without his dad. He could always spend it with his mom, but she just didn't _get_ him the way his dad had. His big plans so far were to hang out with Julia and try not to think about his dad. And it was Eliot asking; he couldn't say no to Eliot.

“Yeah, okay, I'll do it.”

Eliot smiled and it tugged at Quentin's heart. He'd wanted Eliot since the mosaic, and knowing Eliot didn't want him back had done nothing to lessen his affections. Then there was the monster taking his body, and that had been what made him truly aware of the depth of his feelings. It wasn't just that he loved Eliot, that he was in love with him, for him Eliot was it, he was the one he wanted to spend his life with. No one else could compete. He had tried to settle for Alice, to love her, but that was all it was, settling. Eventually she had realized she'd never be what he wanted and walked away. Being her friend was infinitely easier now that they had the possibility of a relationship out of the way.

“Get packed, our flight leaves tomorrow.”

///

Quentin called Julia as soon as Eliot left. Explaining the whole situation to her out loud made him realize how crazy it sounded. “And I know, I know it sounds crazy, but Eliot needs me and I can't let him down.”

“Q...” Julia had the careful tone, the one she used right before she said something he didn't like. “This isn't a Fillory fanfic, it might not turn out the way you hope.”

He hadn't mentioned any hopes, but of course Julia would guess them anyway. “It could though. He could see how good we are together and want to make it real.”

Julia sighed. “He had years with you. He knows how good together you are and he still turned you down.”

Sometimes, Quentin regretted telling Julia about that. But he had needed someone to talk to, someone to lean on. He thought after freeing Eliot from the monster that maybe, just maybe Eliot might start to want him back. Even if he had went back to Alice, just a hint that Eliot wanted him would have been enough to leave her.

Julia was supportive of him, but she was angry at Eliot for hurting him. Since she had told him she had taken a frosty air with Eliot that Quentin could only hope Eliot wouldn't question him about. Likely he thought it had to do with what the monster did to her in his body.

“I know, but things were different then.”

Julia was quiet for a moment. “I just don't want to see you get hurt, Q.”

“I won't. I'm not expecting anything. Just hoping for the best. I'm being cautiously optimistic.”

“Cautiously optimistic, I like that. It's been too long since you've been optimistic about anything.”

He could say the same for her, after losing her chance to be a goddess. But she seemed to be on the mend. “If this turns out the way I want—and I'm not saying it will—then I'll be optimistic about everything. Glass half full forever.”

“You really do love him, don't you?” Julia asked, voice soft.

“Yeah, I really do. And if it doesn't work, then at least I have this for awhile. Pretending that it's real.” Quentin said, then laughed. “That's pathetic, isn't it?”

“No, it's not.” Julia said quickly. “You're putting yourself out there and trying to get what you want. That's brave, Q, not pathetic.”

Quentin heard Julia inhale, could practically hear her gearing herself up to say something. He knew what it was going to be before she said it.

“But I really think you should just tell him how you feel. Like you said, things are different now. Maybe he wants the same thing you do and is just afraid of saying it.”

Quentin flopped back on his bed and smiled. “Mutual pining is a big part of that trope.”

It was avoiding what she had, but Julia allowed it. She was kind like that. “Only if you share a bed and almost kiss at least three times.”

“And we'll have to wake up to cuddling.”

“Cuddling and boners.”

Quentin laughed. “So, do you think I should bring gifts? Our flight leaves tomorrow...”

///

Margo's eyebrow was doing that thing it did when she thought he said something particularly stupid. “What is this, a bad rom com?”

“It's just a favor. Q is a good friend.”

Margo downed her drink. “You two deserve each other. You're both morons.”

Eliot had never exactly told Margo how he felt about Quentin, but he had never really had to. She knew him well enough to know. “Fair point, but Q doesn't want me anymore. He's still hung up on Alice.”

“Please, I walked in on him talking Alice through her bisexual freak out,” Margo said. “You don't offer relationship advice to someone you're hung up on.”

Eliot tilted his head. “I didn't know Alice likes girls.”

“Neither did Alice. Apparently her and Kady have a thing.”

Eliot sat down next to her. “No one tells me anything.”

Margo patted his arm. “They're both morons too. They'll keep dancing around each other until the sexual tension becomes too much and they finally cave in.”

Eliot couldn't help but feel that was pointed at him. “What sexual tension? There is no sexual tension.”

“I could cut the air between you and Q with a knife.”

Margo's face softened and she took his hand. “But seriously, as your best friend I'm telling you, tell him how you feel. He feels the same. It's obvious. Everyone can see it.”

Eliot leaned back and sighed. “I had my chance and I blew it. Now it's too late.”

“How many times have we had this talk?” Margo said. Enough to know it was pointless to argue with him. “At least your mom wants to make things right. She doesn't deserve you, but hey.”

Eliot smiled over at Margo. She was so fiercely protective that she couldn't imagine him forgiving his family. And to be honest he was sure if he could either. But if he was going to try, then he wanted someone there with him. He almost believed Margo would storm down there herself, if she wasn't spending the holidays with Josh's family. “Tell me, why is Josh celebrating Christmas if he's Jewish?”

“Because his brother's fiance isn't. She has this whole tragic dead mom to cope with, like I can compete with that. So the family is celebrating Christmas this year to make her feel welcome. She gets a whole holiday and I barely get an invitation.”

“His family is going to love you.”

“Damn right they are.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter we actually get to meet the family y'all.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quentin and Eliot take a flight home. Quentin meets cousin Susan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was initially meant to be much longer, but I haven't been able to work on it like I wanted. My grandmother is in the hospital, so I've been a little preoccupied. However, this fic WILL be completed and posted before Christmas, I may just be cutting the chapters into smaller segments and posting when I can. I do plan to have another chapter--what was the back half of this chapter--posted by Tuesday or Wednesday, then another chapter by Saturday or Sunday. 
> 
> And thank you all for the comments last chapter, you guys are awesome and comments validate me in a way that is frankly embarrassing.

Quentin had never seen Eliot look so nervous. He was pale and his eyes had bags, like he hadn't slept. He looked as put together as always—much more fashionable that Quentin's hoodie and jeans—but he was tense and on edge. His hand was curled tightly around his drink, nearly gone and the flight had hardly took off.

“You don't have to do this.”

Eliot glanced over at him and smiled. “I know, it's just...family. It's complicated.”

Quentin remembered their family, how they had slotted together like it was the easiest thing in the world. Sometimes he would think of Teddy randomly and ache, a dull, lingering pain of absence and grief. He could remember being old together with Eliot, and feel a sense of grief for the life they had lost. Their little family had been many things, but complicated wasn't one of them.

He wondered if having their family made Eliot willing to sort things out with his own. If maybe he missed that sense of belonging as much as he did.

They didn't talk about it. Those years in Fillory were off limits. It was too close to discussing how they felt about each other, and Quentin was too afraid of that.

“Tell me about them.”

Eliot leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes. “My mom let my dad push me around. I don't think she ever agreed with him, she was just afraid to stand up to him. Which kind of makes it worse; she knew what was happening was wrong and she just...let it happen.”

Quentin didn't know what to say to that. “But she got rid of your dad now, right?”

“Right, that makes it all better.”

“That's not what I-”

“I know,” Eliot cut in. “Then there's Garrett, my older brother. He was a younger version of my father. He's probably still an asshole, but without my dad around to impress he'll fall in line.”

Quentin buried his hands in his pocket. “What about your other brother?”

“My younger brother Dustin. My dad used to go after him too—too sensitive, too emotional. He learned how to stay quiet and stay out of the way. I think he was more afraid of my father than I was. He told me once he didn't care that I was gay, but I couldn't tell Dad that, or he'd get him too.”

The more Quentin heard the more he wanted to find Eliot's father and use some battle magic on him. It wouldn't fix anything, but it would feel good.

“Then there's Susan, my cousin. Her parents died a few years back so she spends the holidays with my family. She's... _nice_. Polite. Distant. Keeps to herself. Thinks she's too good for the rest of us. Probably right, but that's not saying much.”

Quentin, who was a master at avoiding people felt a sting of sympathy. “Maybe she's just shy.”

“She's the only one who stood up for me after I came out. Said I deserved to be happy.”

That sounded like a potential ally. “So she can't be that bad.”

“Or she just wanted to show everyone how much more enlightened she was.” Eliot tossed back the rest of his drink. He looked at his empty glass like he wished it were still full. Quentin thought it was probably best to cut him off, as showing up drunk to meet his family after all this time wouldn't make the best impression.

Quentin plucked the empty cup from Eliot's hand before he could flag the flight attendant for a refill. “So, should we work out a backstory? They might ask how we got together.”

Eliot leaned back in his seat and grinned. “You're enjoying this a little, aren't you? Living out some cliché Christmas movie.”

Quentin felt a blush rising up. He looked away from Eliot. “I don't watch—I mean I-”

Eliot patted him on the arm. “It's okay, your secret is safe with me, your manliness is secure.”

“So, about that backstory...”

///

The airport was crowded. It was expected, given the holiday, but it made it hard to find their way. Eliot had his suitcase handle in one hand, rolling it along behind him. With the other he reached back and grabbed Quentin's hand like it was the most natural thing in the world. And it felt natural, normal. Quentin didn't question it—of course Eliot would take his hand to keep them from getting separated in a crowd. It didn't register that he was doing it because it's what a boyfriend would do until she heard a shrill voice calling Eliot's name.

The voice was heavily accented, pure Midwestern rural drawl. It was hard to spot what direction is was coming from, but luckily Eliot seemed to know the way. The hand on his tightened and pulled him along towards a woman around their age with mousy brown hair. She was wearing sweatpants and a hoodie and had her hair up in a messy ponytail. There was some slight family resemblance to her, though she was much more pale. She had Eliot's eyes, though hers were hidden behind a pair of thick glasses. Quentin was just a little stunned to see anyone related to Eliot would leave the house in sweatpants.

The woman buried her hands in her pocket and smiled tightly at them. “Eliot, you're back. I mean, obviously you know you're back. I mean that it's good to finally see you again. Er, not that you didn't have reason to stay away! Uh, that wasn't meant to sound passive aggressive. Um, hi. Should we hug? Are we close enough to hug?”

She talked so fast Quentin had a hard time keeping up. Eliot was apparently used to it because he only smiled, overly cheerful and said “Bring it in.”

The hug was very brief an very awkward, both parties trying to touch as little of each other as possible. It reminded Quentin of the few times he had to hug his mom's partner. Which reminded him, he was still hanging on to Eliot's hand and standing there uselessly. “Uh...”

The woman broke away. “Oh, where are my manners. I'm Susan, Eliot's cousin.”

“Quentin, Eliot's boyfriend.” The words tasted sweet on his tongue. If only he didn't feel sick to his stomach with nerves.

“It's nice to meet you,” Susan said, offering a shy smile. She didn't make eye contact, but looked somewhere over his shoulder. “Aunt Shannon was going to pick you guys up, but it's started to snow and you know how she is about driving in weather. Also, I think she's baked her body weight in sweets. She didn't know what Quentin would like, so she made some of everything.”

“Oh that's...she didn't have to-” Quentin began.

“Oh, but she did. She feeds everyone who visits. It's the Indiana way.”

Eliot let go of Quentin's hand and casually slid on arm around his waist. Flutters filled Quentin's stomach and he struggled to keep from blushing. “So, are we ready to go? I need to show off my boyfriend to these plebeians.”

It was all part of the ruse, but Eliot sounded proud of him. As if someone like Quentin could ever be worthy of someone like Eliot. It made Quentin hurt and soar at the same time. “Show off is a bit much...”

Susan laughed. “You two are adorable. Don't worry Quentin, everyone will love you.”

Quentin could only hope she was right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So we meet Eliot's cousin, and we'll get to meet his mom and brothers next chapter.


	4. Home for the Holidays

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quentin meets the rest of Eliot's family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapter in one day. I guess I should have left this all one chapter after all. Not that I didn't cut it short, because I suddenly decided I needed to add another scene and having it in this chapter would mess up the pacing. Not that the pacing isn't already messed up, with the way I've been posting chapters, but eh, I'll go back and fix that after it's finished. Trying to finish this before Christmas means you guys are getting the first draft.

The ride back with Susan was long and awkward. It was over an hour to get back to the small town Eliot grew up in. The drive there was longer than the flight, which had been relatively short and painless. They spent the ride crowded into Susan's bright yellow beetle, legs pressed together. Quentin enjoyed the closeness, though he loathed the awkward silence. He guessed Susan was an awkward person, and he was an awkward person, and Eliot alone could not save the conversation when all the other participants were socially inept.

They finally arrived after what felt like hours. The house was a simple farm style house with the white paint fading from the wood. There was a wrap around porch and a tin roof. Snow fell softly unto the ground. It looked warm and inviting, but that might have been the cold making Quentin think so.

They crawled out of the back of the car. Quentin stumbled trying to free himself and fell forward. Suddenly there was an arm around his waist and he was flush against a warm chest. Eliot grinned down at him fondly. “You good?”

Quentin decided to be brave. This was an opportunity and he wasn't going to waste it. “I'm okay,” he said, and drew his arms up lightly around Eliot's neck. “Better now.”

Eliot's eyes flickered with confusion for a second, then he caught on. Pretend boyfriends did things boyfriends did. Eliot wrapped the other arm around his waist and pressed their foreheads together. Quentin's heart leapt towards his throat. “Are you ready?” Eliot murmured softly.

Quentin swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded gently. “Yeah, let's do it.”

Susan was waiting at the door with Eliot's suitcase sitting beside her and Quentin's backpack slung over her shoulder. “Y'all are sweet enough to cause diabetes, but I'm freezing my ass off, so could we maybe go inside?”

Eliot let go of Quentin, but kept one hand wrapped around his. “Let's do this.”

They relived Susan of their bags and walked inside. There was a living room to the right of the door, and a hallway with a stair well in front. Down the hall lead to the kitchen, if Quentin's nose was telling him correctly, where he could smell gingerbread and chocolate. A head popped around the corner, bright red hair piled messily atop and face smudged with flour. The hazel eyes lit up when she saw the three of them. “Miss Shannon, they're here!”

“I've told you Taylor, call me Shannon, the miss isn't necessary,” a voice rebuked softly, then, “Oh! They're here!”

A woman came out the kitchen into the hallway. She had Eliot's coloring, the same eyes and hair, even his nose. She was lovely, her hair falling around her shoulders in gentle curls, her mouth tilted into a shy smile. She was wearing a green and red plaid dress with long sleeves and a pleated skirt. The sleeves were rolled up to her elbows and she had chocolate smeared on her arm.

“Eliot, you're here,” She wasted no time in wrapping her son up in a hug that Eliot tentatively returned. “I'm so glad you came.” She turned her attention to Quentin. “And you too, of course dear, anyone who makes my Eliot happy is welcome anytime.”

She moved toward him, and Quentin nearly froze when she hugged him. He'd forgotten that Eliot mentioned she was a hugger. He patted her awkwardly on the back. “I'm Shannon, and you call me that, no miss or missus allowed. You're here with Eliot, so you're family.”

She smiled at them warmly, though there was a nervous glint in her eyes. “Come on, let's go meet everyone.”

She took their bags and sat them in the hall. She pointed into the kitchen to the redhead they spotted earlier. “This is Taylor, Garrett's girlfriend. Taylor, this is my middle son Eliot and his boyfriend, Quentin.”

Quentin remembered Garrett being the older brother. Which would put him at roughly...too damn old to date a girl who looked so young. He leaned toward Eliot and whispered “Is she legal?”

“Barely,” Eliot whispered back. “Used to be his kid's babysitter. Very scandalous.”

Taylor waved over at them. “Nice to meet ya.” She was struggling with a rolling pin and what looked like cookie dough. Susan stepped around them to go help her, mouthing a quick 'good luck' to Quentin.

Shannon lead them into the living room. It was a large room with hardwood floors and well-worn furniture. There was a fireplace along one wall. Beside it was a tall Christmas tree, a real tree, not the plastic and fiber ones like Quentin used when he bothered to put up a tree. It was loaded with ornaments, some looked handmade. There were pictures in some, they looked like childhood photos.

Sitting on the couch was a dark-haired slender man with reindeer antlers that lit up on his head. “Eliot,” he cried, getting up. Beside him on the couch was a light skinned black girl, her hair pulled back with a red ribbon. She was short and curvy and very pretty. She stood with the man.

The other man pulled Eliot into a hug. “It's been too long, man. It's good to see you again. This is Kayla, my girlfriend.”

Eliot pulled Quentin forward and wrapped an arm around his waist. It felt nice, possessive and protective at once. “This is Quentin, my boyfriend.”

“Man, that's awesome. I'm glad you finally found someone.”

“I'm glad Dad isn't here to disapprove,” Eliot said.

Dustin glanced over to Kayla. “I know what you mean.”

Quentin wondered if Eliot's father was a racist on top of being homophobic. The two seemed to go hand in hand.

“Speaking of disappointment, where is Garrett?”

Dustin laughed, but Shannon shot Eliot a Look. “Play nice. I've already talked to your brother. I want all of you getting along.”

From the way his grip tightened, Quentin could guess that Eliot wasn't looking forward to seeing Garrett. Still, he faked a smile and said “I'll be as nice as he is. Where is he?”

“Out chopping wood for the fire,” said Dustin.

Eliot led them back through the kitchen and out the creaky back door. Outside was a man nearly as tall as Eliot, and twice as wide. He was built like a line backer, with blonde hair and a square jaw covered with stubble. He didn't look much like Eliot; Quentin supposed he took after their father.

“Taylor, what did I tell ya about leaving that door open?” Garrett said without looking back. He didn't sound too happy. Maybe it was because he was in the cold with nothing but a tee-shirt and jeans.

“Not Taylor,” Eliot said. Quentin closed the door behind them. It didn't hurt to try to make a good first impression.

Garrett turned and looked at them, ax held up ready to swing onto the log in front of him. “You're back,” he said, voice giving away no emotion.

“I'm back,” said Eliot. “This is Quentin, my boyfriend.”

Garrett grunted and nodded his way. It was as much a greeting as Quentin was going to get. Quentin could sense Eliot getting worked up over the slight, so he said quickly, “Do you need any help?”

It had been awhile, but he'd gotten pretty good at cutting firewood. He'd had to back in Fillory, him and Eliot both, to keep their little family warm during the cold winters. He'd even taught Teddy how to use the ax.

“City boy like you'd probably just get in the way.”

Quentin didn't like the way he said 'city boy' and he was almost certain he'd meant something else entirely. Eliot was too. Quentin turned and pressed himself against him, speaking lowly “Remember to play nice.”

Eliot rolled his eyes and acquiesced. “We'll leave you to it then.”

Once they were back inside Eliot fumed. “Can you believe him? Still a grade A asshole.”

“He didn't really say anything,” Quentin tried.

“It was in the subtext,” Eliot replied.

“So he's a jerk. The rest of your family seems okay. Are you going to let him ruin things for you?” said Quentin, pushing his hair back from his face. He'd decided to let it grow long again, and it was in the annoying place where it was just long enough to tuck behind his ear, but not long enough to stay in place. As soon as he pushed it back it fell forward again.

Eliot stepped to him and reached out, seemingly thoughtlessly, to tuck his hair behind his ear. His hands came up to cup Quentin's face. “What would I do without you?”

“Uh...” Quentin felt like he was on fire from Eliot's touch. Eliot was a tactile person, he touched him often, but as of late, he'd been being more affected. Maybe it was because he finally allowed himself to feel something at his touch, now the monster was gone. He'd suppressed any pleasure at Eliot's touch from the monster, recoiled from it, in fact. Having the monster touch him so casually as though they were friends had been a nauseating sort of torment.

He realized Eliot probably expected a reply. He decided to go for humor. “What kind of boyfriend would I be if I wasn't supportive?”

Eliot smiled, small and wry. He pulled Quentin into a hug, arms wrapped around his waist. Quentin returned the gesture, nearly wishing it could feel as innocent as it once had when they were first friends. But then, even back then hadn't part of him wanted something more?

Suddenly, there were warm lips on his forehead and Quentin felt his breath leave his body. Was one of the family members watching? Quentin couldn't be sure. All he could do was cherish the feeling on Eliot's lips on his skin and hope he survived the next few days without exposing how he felt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you think about Eliot's family?( Yes, Garrett is an asshole. I'm sorry.) Tell me what you think. 
> 
> Next chapter we get to see the group go ice skating, so that should be fun.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ice skating and bed sharing

Quentin was stuffed full of every kind of cookie in existence. Eliot's mom had baked enough batches to feed an army, with some help from Taylor. Kayla was trying to sell him on the superiority of vegan cookies, when Shannon declared they should go ice skating. It was something they had done as kids around Christmas, before their father decided they were too old for such things.

They loaded up two cars and made the half hour drive to the nearest city with am ice skating rink. The group broke off into pairs, the couples skating together, while Shannon and Susan paired up. Kayla was barely standing upright, clinging to Dustin's arm, while Taylor delightedly skated circles around Garrett.

Eliot had gotten them hot chocolate and was sat on the bench outside the rink. Quentin sat next to him, sipping his own cocoa. Shannon waved them to come on the ice. “I think your mom wants us to come out.”

“Me coming out was the last thing my mother wanted.”

“Eliot.”

Eliot sighed. “Fine. I haven't done this in years, so don't expect my normal grace and poise.” He stood and offered a hand down to Quentin. Together they made their way shakily out to the ice.

It was slow going, but it was nice. Quentin liked the way Eliot gripped his hand, how they were so close their arms brushed together. After a few minutes, Eliot gained his footing and sped up, dragging Quentin with him. “Woah, don't let me fall.”

“I've got you, Coldwater.”

A nearby little girl passed by them, bumping into Eliot. Eliot lost his balance and Quentin jerked his hand to keep him from falling forward. He over corrected, and Eliot was spun around, crashing into Quentin. His back hit the ice and his breath left his lungs. Eliot landed on top of him, warm and heavy. Their legs were tangled together.

Eliot lifted his head a few inches and looked down at Quentin. “Q, are you okay?”

They were close enough that their noses brushed. The light glinted off the snowflakes in Eliot's hair like a halo. His eyelashes looked very long, and his checks tinted pink from the cold. His mouth was a rosy pink, and so very close to Quentin's own. Quentin couldn't help but shift his gaze down to Eliot's mouth and _want_.

“Q...”

Quentin felt Eliot shift, saw his own eyes flicker down toward Quentin's mouth. Was that desire in his eyes? Quentin could swear he had seen the look in his eyes before, during their many years in Fillory, usually right before he had a _very_ nice time. He closed his eyes and leaned forward, Eliot so close he could nearly taste him.

“Oh my god, are you okay?” The voice broke them out of the moment. Quentin looked up to see Taylor standing above them, looking concerned. Garrett was beside her, looking less concerned. “Garrett, help your brother up.”

Garrett did as his girlfriend said, though he didn't look too pleased about it. Taylor offered a hand to Quentin and pulled him to his feet. The others came skating over as quickly as they could manage. Shannon placed a hand on Eliot's shoulder. “Sweetie, are you alright?”

Quentin could swear Eliot blushed at his mom calling him 'sweetie.' Quentin thought it was kind of cute.

“I'm fine, Mom.”

Shannon turned her motherly concern towards Quentin. “Oh, what about you dear, are you alright?”

“Yes, ma'am, I'm fine.”

Shannon smiled at him warmly. “None of that ma'am business. I told you, we're family now.”

She might be trying too hard, but Quentin thought she was sincere. He wondered if Eliot thought so as well.

“Maybe we should go back home,” Kayla suggested. The others agreed.

As they were bundled in the back seat together, Quentin took the opportunity to rest his head on Eliot's shoulder. Eliot had almost kissed him. _Eliot had almost kissed him_.

There was hope yet.

///

It was getting late, late enough that Eliot wanted to retreat from his family to the sanctity of his room. His room where he was sleeping with Quentin. His room with one bed.

Quentin tried not to make it a big deal. He had shared a bed with Eliot for years in Fillory. It didn't have to mean anything. He knew that Eliot was clingy in his sleep, that he liked to cuddle and use his partner as a pillow. Just because he knew these things didn't mean they would happen. Eliot would probably be too uncomfortable to sleep. Going home as an adult always felt weird that way.

“This isn't what I imagined,” Quentin said. The room was done in neutral shades of beige and brown, with lacy curtains and minimal furniture. There was a small television on a stand across from the bed, a dresser against the wall and not much else.

“My parents redecorated after left and made this the guest bedroom. There's nothing left from me of me in here.”

There was something sad about that, but Quentin didn't want to let him linger on it. “Right, well, I'm tired, so...”

Eliot turned out the lights and crawled into bed next to him. Neither of them spoke for a long minute. Quentin could feel Eliot breathing beside him, could imagine reaching out across the space between him and touching him. He wanted to touch him, so badly. But he didn't. He couldn't risk it.

“Are you awake?” he whispered softly.

“Yeah, just thinking,” Eliot said.

“About?”

Eliot shifted to face him. “Do you think I should forgive my mom?”

“Do you want to?”

Eliot idly traced a pattern over Quentin's bare arm with his fingertips. Quentin didn't think he even realized he was doing it; he was only stressed and reaching for a familiar touch for comfort. It still sent shivers down his spine.

“I don't know,” Eliot said. “She did kick out my dad, but does she deserve me to forgive her?”

“I think forgiveness is less about what people deserve and more about what we want. I think if we can just admit what we want to ourselves, forgiveness will come easier.”

Eliot drew his hand away from Quentin and rolled onto his back. “Maybe you're right.”

“She seems nice.”

Eliot made a noncommittal noise. Then, just to change the topic, “I can't remember the last time I shared a bed with someone I wasn't fucking.”

Quentin nearly choked on his own saliva. How could Eliot say something so casually? “I mean, technically, we have...”

Eliot let out a light laugh. He turned and flung an arm over Quentin's waist, snuggling closer to him. Quentin felt like he might combust. “El?”

“I'm stress cuddling. Be weird about it in the morning.”

Quentin wasn't going to question it. “Yeah, okay.”

Almost kissing, sharing a bed, and now snuggling? This trip could end up going exactly as he wanted.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Garrett is an asshole, Quentin nearly dies

Quentin woke up to being spooned by Eliot. It felt nice, warm and secure and safe. It felt like _home_. He let himself enjoy it for a moment, let himself pretend that it meant something. Then he untangled himself and headed downstairs for a glass of water. Being so close to Eliot had him thirsty in more ways than one, and he needed to clear his head for a bit.

He heard faint moaning coming from Dustin's room and felt a pang of jealousy. That could have been him and Eliot, if only he was brave enough to make a move. If only he knew that Eliot wanted him back.

Garrett was downstairs in the kitchen. Quentin didn't know what to say, he felt awkward and out of place. “Hey, I just came to get a glass of water.”

Garrett sat his own glass down on the counter with more force than necessary. “It's his fault he's not here, you know.”

“What?”

“Eliot,” Garrett said. “He's the reason Dad isn't here. The reason Mom kicked him out. Because Dad didn't want his son to be a queer and Mom thinks that makes him a bad guy.”

Quentin felt his entire body go hot. “He used to hit Eliot.”

Garrett shrugged. “He hit us all when we deserved it.”

That was a lot to unpack. Quentin realized Eliot's dad messed up all his sons in some way. Maybe what he did to Garrett was worse; at least Eliot had came out a decent person, and Dustin seemed nice enough. He'd turned Garrett into an asshole.

“I don't think kids ever deserve to be hit.”

Garrett looked away from him. “He should be here. Better him than you.”

“And what about Eliot?”

“He could have found a nice girl, settled down. He didn't have to start with all that queer stuff.”

Quentin had never wanted to hit someone as badly as he wanted to hit Garrett. “So what, he should have stayed in the closet because it would have been easier for you?”

“Woulda been easier for everybody.”

“Except Eliot. He would have been miserable.”

Garrett seemed to mull that over for a minute. “He could have been happy where he was. He ain't gotta be happy here. We were all fine until Mom decided she wanted him to come back.”

“If she wanted him to come back so bad, maybe she wasn't fine. Maybe you just didn't notice.”

Garrett said nothing for a long moment. “She seemed okay.”

“She's your mom, that's what parents do. They don't let you see them suffering.” Quentin could remember that vividly. How broken down he was by Arielle's death, how he had held it together in front of Teddy and wept with Eliot.

“Whatever. I'm going back to bed.”

Quentin watched Garrett leave. He wondered if he should share this conversation with Eliot, or if it would only add to his stress. Being home didn't mean he had to patch things up with everyone. Quentin didn't want to give him reason to doubt, or an excuse to run. Still, he didn't want to hide things from Eliot either. He'd tell him about it in the morning. There was no point waking him up over something so small.

When Quentin crawled back into bed, Eliot wrapped himself back around him and nuzzled into his neck. Sleeping Eliot was affectionate that way. With this going on, Quentin doubted he'd be able to fall back asleep. His entire body felt awake, especially one part of him that was very interested in Eliot pressed so closely.

Despite it all, he did fall back asleep. He couldn't recall when, but when he woke there was sun streaming through the window and he was on his back. Eliot was half beside and half on top of him, his head rested on Quentin's chest. There was a bit of drool by his mouth, that should have been gross, but Quentin just found adorable. He was so gone for Eliot, it was almost beyond belief.

Eliot stirred and his eyes started to flutter a little. Quentin quickly closed his eyes and pretended to be asleep. He only wanted another few seconds with Eliot, there was no need to show him he was awake.

Eliot lifted his head slightly and Quentin tried to maintain his even breathing. After a second, Eliot put his head back down on Quentin's chest. Quentin was confused—was Eliot pretending to be asleep as well? Did that mean he wanted to be this close to Quentin? The thought made him deliriously happy. Quentin let himself bask in the feeling for as long as he could. Unfortunately, it wasn't very long. Shouting from downstairs had them both sitting up and looking at each other warily.

“You brought her here?! Here?! What the hell, Garrett?”

Quentin cast a questioning look toward Eliot.

“Sounds like Megan, his ex wife,” Eliot said. “I may or may not have stalked her on Facebook, looking for deets on the family drama.”

“Should we pretend we don't hear them?”

Eliot was already getting out of bed. “Come on, this is going to be better than reality TV.”

That wasn't saying much, and it was a little concerning how much pleasure Eliot was getting from his brother's suffering. But that brother was Garrett, known asshole, so Quentin didn't really care. “If you say so.”

Downstairs was a blonde woman in bright pink yoga pants, holding the hands of a small boy. She looked furious. “She has no right to be here, to be around _my_ son-”

“He's my son too, and she's my girlfriend!”

Megan threw her arms up into the air. “She's _eighteen_!”

From their spot on top of the stairs they had a pretty good view of what was going on. Taylor was a few feet from Garrett, trying to make things better. “I love Liam, I'd never do anything to hurt him-”

“Do not speak to me! First you steal my husband and now you want my son?”

“I was never with Garrett while you were together!” Taylor cried, at the same time Garrett said “We weren't together back then-”

It was a bit like a reality television show, Quentin had to admit. Especially the part where Megan let go of the crying Liam and slapped Taylor, calling her a lying bitch.

“Do you think we should intervene?” Quentin asked.

“Better stop this before someone calls the cops.”

They rushed downstairs. By the time they arrived Taylor had shoved Megan, and Megan had jumped her. Garrett was trying to pull her off, but she was clawing at his arms. Quentin grabbed Taylor by the arm and hauled her up, holding out an arm to keep her from the others.

“Everybody, let's calm down,” Eliot said, holding up his hands in the universal gesture for I-come-in-peace.

Garrett flung Megan down on the ground and called her a very misogynistic word. Eliot stepped between them and held out his hands to separate them. “This is a little too white trash, even for this family.”

Suddenly the door flung open and a gust of cool air hit them all. Liam had run outside to escape the fighting. Quentin sympathized, he'd like to run outside too. Liam kept running and then slipped and fell into the middle of the road.

There was a car coming.

Quentin didn't think, he just bolted out the door toward the boy. He couldn't let a child get hurt. He grabbed Liam and shoved him out of the way. Everything happened in slow motion, he heard the screech of the brakes, too late to stop and knew he was going to die.

He closed his eyes and nothing happened.

The car was stopped in the highway, a hair away from him. He glanced back up at the house and saw Eliot at the door, hand flung out in front of him. Had he done magic? Had El just saved his life?

There wasn't time to think about it, everyone rushed out of the house and towards them. Garrett and Megan swept up Liam and Megan sobbed out a tearful thanks. Then there were arms around him, holding him tight, tight, tight, nearly lifting him off the ground. “Q, you idiot. Don't ever scare me like that again.”

Eliot's arms squeezed him even tighter and a hand came up to bury in his hair. “I thought I lost you there.”

Quentin buried his face into Eliot's shoulder. “I'm not that easy to get rid of.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter we get some more Margo and Julia. And I always love hearing what you think.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Apologies all around. Margo and Julia try to talk sense into our boys

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I stole a line here from the season 5 trailer because it was too good not to use.

Eliot's heart was racing when he crushed Quentin against him. His magic had been instinctual, without thought. He had to save Quentin, and so he did. He believed everybody was too focused on Liam to notice, but he didn't really care if they saw. Let magic be revealed to them; if it meant saving Quentin's life.

Even now that it was over he still felt shaky. Quentin could have died. Q could be _dead_. He couldn't imagine a world without Quentin.

He kept replaying the incident in his head, over and over. If he had only been a few seconds later...

“Honey, he's fine,” Shannon said from beside him. They were in the kitchen where she had ushered them to let Susan have a look at Quentin. She was in med school, and 'almost a doctor' according to Shannon. Susan had given him the all clear.

They were supposed to be baking cookies, something that helped calm the nerves. At least his mother said it did. Which went a long way to explain why there were so many cookies in his childhood. Quentin was sat at the table with a large mug of cocoa topped with marshmallows that Shannon had gave him. He looked fine, yes, but he could have been gone.

He also had a smudge of cocoa above his lip. Eliot took it as an excuse to touch him and crossed the distance between them. He swiped his thumb over Quentin's lip and sucked it into his mouth. Quentin's eyes went wide, and he gasped softly. “You had a little something.”

Quentin nodded his head, eyes transfixed on Eliot's mouth. It was almost like...Well, it didn't matter. He'd blown his chance with Quentin. Still, it would have been nice to lean down and kiss him now. A long minute passed with neither of them speaking. After a moment, Shannon glanced between them and said “I'll give you two a moment alone.”

Quentin broke out of his trance. “No, I'm going to go...shower. Yeah. You keep baking.”

He nearly bolted out the kitchen. Eliot wondered if he had read the desire in his eyes, if he had scared him away. “Quentin-” Eliot moved to go after him, but his mother's hand on his arm stopped him.

“He almost died, Sweetie. Give him a moment alone to collect himself.”

Eliot conceded that his mother was right. He didn't want to be overbearing or clingy. He would bake some cookies with his mom and in a few minutes Quentin would be back down. Him and his mother worked in silence cutting cookies for awhile, until his mother spoke “I haven't told your brothers, but I'm asking your father for a divorce.”

Eliot didn't know what to say.

“I've spent years walking on eggshells, afraid of him, afraid to upset him, to disagree with him. I never liked the way he treated you. I should have done more to stop it. I should have gotten you away from him. I know that now,” Shannon said. “I thought keeping the family together would be the best thing for everybody...but I look at your brothers now and I see the harm he did to them. Garrett's became him, Dustin became me. I was wrong. I was wrong, and I'm sorry. I'm sorry I didn't save you.”

His mother was tearing up now, but she pressed on, “I'm your mother and it's my job to look after you, and I did a shitty job of it. I'm so, so sorry, Eliot.”

Eliot remembered his mother slipping into his room at night after his father fell asleep, whispering to him in the dark that everything would be okay. That one day he'd get out of this place, and he'd be happy. He remembered her telling him this place was too small for someone like him, that he belonged somewhere better. She hadn't defended him, hadn't protected him, but she had loved him.

But he can see now that his mother was as terrified of his father as he had been. It took her a decade to stand up to him, but she finally had. Maybe that was enough to build on.

“I can't promise to forgive you for that, but I think I'd like to see you sometimes. Give the family thing a try.”

Shannon hastily swiped at her eyes. “I'd like that too.”

It wasn't much, but it was a start.

///

Quentin wasn't sure how he found himself trapped with the girls on a shopping trip. He'd came out of his shower and Kayla had mentioned shopping, and the next thing he knew he was being ushered into a car. Having spent his formative years being dragged on these sort of trips with Julia, Quentin knew he'd be in for a long day. Susan looked as miserable to be there as him, so at least he wasn't alone in his suffering.

“So, tell us about you and Eliot. How did you meet?” Kayla said. They were looking through a row of nearly identical shirts that might have been very fashionable for all Quentin knew.

“Uh, we went to school together.”

“Was it love at first sight?” Taylor asked.

“No, um, it took me awhile to figure it out. Until Eliot I only liked guys theoretically.”

Eliot had been the first—the only, really—man he'd had feelings for. He'd felt attracted to men before, sure, but he'd never had any romantic attachments. He hadn't even hooked up with any men. Talking to women was terrifying enough, and he had years of practice talking to Julia. He had no idea how to flirt with a man. He still didn't. Not that he'd ever actually figured out how to flirt with a woman either. He was mostly a disaster on all fronts.

“So when did you know you were in love?” she said.

Quentin remembered that night in Fillory, how he'd felt something that had been growing since the moment he met Eliot, something he'd never been able to name. How he realized he wanted him, and had for some time, and decided to say fuck it and go for it. He had kissed Eliot and Eliot had kissed him back. Then he had kissed him again and again and again, until Quentin had lost count.

“We were working on this project together and I just knew.”

Susan saved him from more questions. “Did you bring something to wear to the charity ball, Quentin?”

“The what?”

“Imma take that as a no,” she said. “It's a thing the local church does every year. They rent out the event center and throw a ball. All the money from ticket sales goes to buying food and presents for needy families. It's usually pretty boring, but it gives people an excuse to wear something fancy and dance to bad music.”

“We have to find you something to wear,” Kayla said, as if this were a vital, life-saving mission.

Taylor clapped her hands. “Oh, we can get you a white suit so it looks Christmasy.”

Quentin exchanged a look with Susan. “We're going to be stuck here a long time, aren't we.”

“Unfortunately.”

///

Eliot forgot that fishing was what was considered fun around these parts. He'd never been into hunting or fishing, his fathers favorite leisure activities, though his brothers had. Dustin had never had the heart to kill anything, and still didn't, so they were hunting while the girls shopped.

Eliot felt like Quentin would have had more fun fishing. He used to fish for their food back in Fillory. Eliot knew he would have more fun shopping, not that there was much competition. Shopping didn't involve touching fish bait, so it was a clear winner.

Luckily, Garrett was too busy helping Liam to pay him much notice. It was as Eliot preferred; he'd rather not interact with his older brother. Dustin, however, was different. He'd never bullied him like Garrett, and while he had never stood up for him either, he had been a scared kid too. He was just trying to survive their father.

“I'm glad you're back,” Dustin said. He had his line hanging in the water, looking steadfastly out ahead. “I know I never said anything, and I should have but-”

“You were scared?”

Dustin nodded. “I should have stood up for you. Might of helped. It would have gave Dad a different target for a bit, anyhow.”

“It's okay,” Eliot said. Funny enough, it was. It wasn't Dustin's place to defend him, and while he wished he would have had someone on his side, he can't blame Dustin for not wanting to face their father's wrath when he was just a kid himself.

“It's not. Kayla...she's not what Dad would expect me to bring home. And she's bisexual. Her family took it well, but I can't imagine her going through what you did. And I let it happen, and I'm sorry I didn't try to stop it. Probably wouldn't have done no good, but you'd know I was on your side.”

“I knew you were on my side,” Eliot said. “It's the past. I'm trying to move on from it.”

Moving on, as opposed to running. Because that was what he had done, run. He ran away as fast as he could. But he hadn't taken the time to heal, to work through the issues his home life had caused. He'd avoided thinking about it and reinvented himself.

It was being part of a family again that had helped him to heal, really heal. And that had been all down to Quentin. It made him smile just to think about.

“So this Quentin guy, you serious about him?”

Eliot decided to answer honestly. “I'm crazy about him.”

///

Calling Margo was a necessity. He didn't like going long periods without talking to her. A day was enough.

“Thank god you saved me,” Margo said. “I'm dying here.”

“Josh's parents don't like you?”

“They keep passive aggressively talking about how they're going to have to get used to Christmas since neither of their sons ended up with a Jewish girl. And I haven't got the dead mommy card to play. I'm thinking of converting just to one up the bitch. How are things with you?”

Eliot told Margo about Quentin nearly being hit by a car and how he had used magic to save him. “They might have saw me use magic, I'm not sure.”

“Who cares? They'll rationalize it away,” Margo said. “This should be an eye opener, El. Q could have died. Grow a clit and tell him how you feel.”

“I would if I could, bitch.”

///

Julia was a life-saver. She may not be a literal goddess anymore, but she was one as far as Quentin was concerned. Her calling gave him an excuse to hide out in the dressing room alone.

“How's it going? Any tropes played out?”

“Kind of.”

Julia hummed. “And did Eliot confess his feelings yet?”

“No, but he did use magic to save me from being hit by a car.”

“Q! Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I'm fine, really. Eliot saved me.”

“Of course he did,” Julia said. “In front of his family?”

“Yeah.”

“So he risked exposing magic to save you. What does that tell you?”

“That...we're friends?”

Julia sighed. “It's like you're being dense on purpose.”

“I know you think I should tell him how I feel, but I can't. I already tried that once and I can't ruin things.”

“Q,” Julia had her no nonsense voice on. “Tell him how you feel. Rip the band-aid off. If he turns you down, at least you know and can move on.”

How was he supposed to say there was no moving on? That for him Eliot was it? “I can't do that. You don't understand. There isn't anyone else. It's always going to be Eliot.”

“All the more reason to tell him.”

Quentin shook his head, then remembered Julia couldn't see him. “No, no, that is not the plan. The plan is he realizes he loves me and tells me. It's his turn.”

“His turn? You sound like you're five.”

“Be nice to me, I almost got hit by a car.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Garrett gets what he deserves, Susan shares a secret, Eliot makes a confession

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only one more chapter after this one. I should have it up sometime Saturday.

Family dinners had a way of being tense. This was especially true with Eliot's family. Garrett, who had spent more time drinking than fishing, was in a mood. “Dad, should be here. It's Christmas.”

Taylor rested a hand on Garrett's arm. “I know he's your dad, but he did some pretty messed up stuff, you can't blame your mom for-”

Garrett snatched his arm away and snarled “Shut up, Taylor.”

“Don't talk to me like that!”

On the other side of his dad, Liam folded into himself. He looked like he was trying to hide. Eliot figured he was probably used to his dad acting out and scaring him. Garrett didn't notice he was upsetting his son. He pointed a jerky finger at Eliot, “Dad can't be here all because of you,” he swung his finger toward Quentin, “and you,” then he moved it and pointed at Kayla “and you.”

Dustin went red. “If Dad wants to be in my life he has to accept my girlfriend. I'd rather have her than him.”

“You'd give up your own Daddy for a piece of a-”

“Garrett!” Shannon rose to her feet and slammed her fist down on the table. “There are many reasons your father isn't here, one of them being the way he treated me without any respect, something I see you're following in his footsteps in regards to your own relationships. Or was one woman leaving you not enough for the message to sink in?”

Garrett gaped at his mother. Eliot was sure his mother had never talked that way to anyone in her life, least of all Garrett or their father.

“Your brothers are here, their partners are here, if anything about that bothers you, you can leave. I won't have this type of hostility in my house. I thought I got rid of it with your father; if you want to be like him, go do it somewhere else.” Shannon ended her speech, checks bright with color and eyes shining. Eliot was a little proud of her. She never stood up for herself or anyone else, and here she was, telling Garrett to get out.

“Fine,” said Garrett, rising to his feet and swaying. “I'll get Liam and go.”

He picked up Liam, but Taylor grabbed him from his arms and held him protectively. “You aren't driving anywhere with Liam; you're drunk.”

“Then you can drive. Go get your shit.”

Taylor frowned and carefully made her way to Shannon and handed over Liam. “I think Liam should stay here tonight.”

Taylor turned and faced Garrett, though Eliot noticed she kept plenty of space between them. “I'll drive you back home, but after that we're done. I cant be with someone who acts like this.”

Garrett swore and tossed his keys to her. “Let's go.”

Dustin stood up quickly. “I'll follow behind you and give you a ride back to your house.”

Kayla grabbed his hand. “I'll go with you.”

Garrett stormed out and the others walked after him. There was a long, awkward beat as everyone left at the table scrambled for something to say. Finally, Susan spoke, “I'll take Liam up to bed, you guys can clean up in here.”

Shannon's face fell as soon as Liam was out of the room. Tears began to pour from her eyes. “First my husband, now my son. I can't believe I've lost them both.” A sob wrecked through her body. “But I got you back, at least, right?”

Eliot went to his mother and awkwardly patted her on the back. “It's okay, Mom.”

Shannon nodded. “It will be. Garrett will come around, he just needs time. If not then I'm not afraid of cutting him out of my life. I won't let him ruin things for you and your brother.”

She turned and buried her face into Eliot's shoulder. “How did you turn out so good, when I'm such a mess?”

“I'm the king of messes, Mom, trust me.”

After a moment, she pulled herself together. “Alright then, I'll clean the table and do the dishes. You boys go do something fun.”

Quentin who had said nothing so far glanced over at Eliot. Should they leave his mom alone? She seemed a bit fragile. Eliot nodded his head slightly. They both left and went upstairs to Eliot's old room.

As soon as the door was closed, Eliot flung himself onto the bed. “Why did I bring myself back into this insanity?”

“Because all families are crazy?” Quentin said, sitting beside him.

“Ours wasn't,” Eliot said, voice muffled by his face in the pillow.

Quentin and Eliot both froze. Neither spoke for a long minute. “We never talk about that.” Quentin said at last.

“It's easier not to think of. They're all gone now.”

They would have all died by now, Teddy and even the grand kids. Maybe it was better not to think about. Quentin laid down next to Eliot and nestled up to him. If Eliot could ask for stress cuddles, so could he. Eliot obliged him and wrapped an arm around his waist and put his head on his shoulder.

“I still miss them sometimes.” Quentin said.

Eliot shifted and placed a kiss on his temple, soft and sweet. “I know, Q. So do I.”

///

They fell asleep curled around each other. As much as Eliot enjoyed being close to Q, he needed a smoke. He smoked more when he was stressed and nothing stressed him like his family. On the way toward the backdoor, he heard crying. It was coming from the direction of the living room, so there was only one person it could be. Susan was sleeping on the couch.

He walked in and saw her with her knees drew up, tears streaming down her face. “Please tell me those aren't for Garrett.”

Susan jerked in surprise then laughed, swiping at her eyes. “No, Garrett is a jerk. It's just this time of year is hard you know, without my parents.”

Eliot didn't want to, he really didn't, but he moved and sat next to Susan. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Susan shrugged. “It's just that I never felt like I fit in with the rest of the family. I was different than them, you know. And I know what you think of me, that I'm some stuck up snob who thinks I'm better than everyone, but that isn't true. I don't know how to act around people, I never have. My therapist calls it social anxiety disorder.”

That...made a lot of sense, actually.

“And it's just my parents were the only ones who got me. They know about me being a-um, different.”

“Different how?”

Susan looked over at him and smiled wryly. “If anyone is going to get this it's you, so I might as well try. I'm not like other people. I don't like the same things. Romance and sex, I never wanted them, they never made sense to me. And the family thought that I was just focused on school, but really I'm just...there are words for it. Aromantic. Asexual. And it's isolating. You're not queer enough for the LGBT folks, but you're too queer for the heteros, so you have nowhere to belong.”

“I don't really think there's such thing as not queer enough,” Eliot said. “There's nothing wrong with what you are. If the family doesn't like it, fuck em.”

“I think Aunt Shannon will be okay with it. I mean, I do now that she got rid of your dad.”

Susan had shared something big with him; Eliot made a rash decision and decided to share something with her. “Quentin and I aren't really together.”

“What?”

“I couldn't face the family alone and Mom assumed I had a boyfriend, so I had Quentin pretend to be him.”

Susan looked at him as if he grew a second head. “Quentin is obviously in love with you.”

“He's just pretending-”

“Ugh, men,” Susan said. “Why are you so stupid? He likes you. You clearly like him, the way you keep making heart eyes at him. Why don't you just tell him how you feel?”

“It's not that easy.”

“Yes it is. Woman up.”

Eliot smiled. “You know I have this friend Margo, I think she'd like you.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Decorating, kissing and confessions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter. I just want to say thank you so much to all the people who commented or left kudos or bookmarked this fic. You've all been great. I hope you all have a great time celebrating whatever holiday you celebrate this time of year. Happy Holidays and thanks for reading.

It was Christmas Eve, and the day of the charity ball. Eliot had been awoken from his slumber by Dustin, who informed him their mom was freaking out. The event center had yet to be decorated for the ball, and she had been called in to help, given she was on the decorating committee last year. Everyone in the house was wrangled into decorating, as they only had hours before the ball began.

Everyone was running around hanging garland and ornaments and lights, while Shannon panicked about the time and how it wouldn't look as good as last year. Eliot remembered this sort of thing well enough from his childhood that he could mostly ignore her. These things always turned out fine, people didn't come for the decorations anyway.

Eliot was in the middle of hanging a wreath when Susan blazed past him, arms full of garland. “Eliot, go help Quentin, he needs someone tall.”

Quentin was indeed having difficulty trying to hang something from the doorway, as he was _just_ too short to reach the archway. Eliot went over and took the green sprig from his hand. “Mistletoe at a church party? That's unexpected.”

Quentin frowned. “Oh, Susan told me to hang it up. She said it would look festive.”

Like magic, Susan appeared near them. “Uh-oh, you two are under the mistletoe. You know what that means.”

Eliot shot Susan a look. Apparently she thought she was helping. He would have appreciated a more subtle approach. “What are we, twelve?”

“It's bad luck not to kiss under the mistletoe. Do you want to give bad luck? To _charity_?”

Eliot regretted ever confiding in Susan. Clearly she could not be trusted.

Quentin seemed more amused. “Well, I'd hate to jinx charity.”

Eliot was about to reply, then realized what Quentin said. Quentin was okay with him kissing him. Even if he was only going along with it as a joke. Maybe it made him a bad man, but Eliot wasn't going to pass up the chance to kiss Q.

“For charity,” he said, bringing a hand up to cup Quentin's face.

He'd meant it to be a light kiss. A soft brushing of the lips and nothing more. But then Quentin arched into him, pushing up into the kiss. His mouth opened under Eliot's and Eliot was lost. He gripped a hand in Quentin's hair and pulled him closer still, moving his mouth against his frantically. Quentin was grasping unto his shoulders, hanging on like his life depended on it.

“Hey...whoops, sorry.” The voice broke them out of their kiss. It was Dustin, who looked a little embarrassed. “Um, can I borrow Eliot for a minute?”

Eliot pulled himself together. He was still reeling, but he could freak out internally and keep it cool on the outside like a winner. “I'm all yours.”

Dustin led him away into an empty hallway. He wrung his hands together and glanced around nervously. “I need your advice. I want to propose to Kayla, but I don't know how. Or if she'll say yes. I mean, how do I know she's the one? What if I'm not the one for her? How did you know Quentin was the one?”

Maybe they were faking this relationship too well if his family thought he was the one to go for to advice about this. Except he and Quentin hadn't done much other than be themselves, with some extra hand holding. Yet everyone thought they were perfect together. “I didn't know, not at first. I was afraid, so I pushed him away and almost lost him.”

“How'd you get him back?”

Eliot looked over at Quentin and felt his chest tighten. It hit him like a lightning bolt that Quentin was the one for him. He'd known he loved Quentin, but he'd been afraid to look at it too closely. He'd always been afraid. And hadn't he made a promise to himself to be braver? Because of Quentin. “I told him how I felt.”

“What if I tell Kayla and she doesn't feel the same?”

Eliot put a hand on his brother's shoulder. “Take a chance and tell her anyway. Quentin once took a chance on me and I rejected him. It was the biggest mistake of my life. If you have a chance to be with someone, you have to be brave and take it. Quentin taught me that.”

“So I should ask her?”

Most couples probably talked about these things before hand, made sure they both were ready. The when and where should be the surprise, not the proposal itself. All of that was logical and sound advice to give. But it wasn't romantic, and some people wanted to be swept up in romance. “Ask her. Just don't make it public, public proposals are tacky.”

“Alright, I'm going to do it. I'm going to ask her,” Dustin said. Then he looked up at Eliot, “Hey, if she says yes will you be one of my groomsmen?”

“It would be an honor.”

///

The rest of the evening was spent preparing for the ball. Eliot and Quentin avoided each other as much as possible. Eliot wasn't sure if Quentin is embarrassed about the kiss or if he's angry. He'd certainly seemed to be kissing back. Either way, it didn't matter. Eliot had decided. Tonight he was going to confess his feelings. He could hardly tell his brother to be brave and not be brave himself.

He wore a black suit and a green shirt, just to be festive. It wasn't a Christmasy green, but he had his limits. Quentin would probably tease him for packing a suit, if he was with him. As it was, Quentin had taken his things and was getting ready in Garrett's room, now that it was empty.

Eliot met Quentin in the hallway. He was wearing a white suit with a red shirt and a tie that had reindeer on it. It was a ridiculous look, but Eliot was absolutely smitten at the sight of him. “Very festive,” he said.

“Oh, ah, the girls picked it out. It seemed better not to argue with them,” Quentin said, running his hand nervously through his hair.

Eliot wanted to tell him right there, but then Dustin stumbled out of his room into the hall. “Either of you know how to tie a tie?”

Eliot was going to have to have a serious talk with his younger brother about cock blocking. “Come here, I'll fix you.”

Quentin disappeared while he was busy with Dustin. They loaded up cars, and somehow Quentin ended up in the car with Dustin, Kayla, and Susan. That meant he had to ride with his mother. He didn't like that Quentin was avoiding him. His mother must have felt the same, because she told him he could go switch with Susan. Eliot lied and said Quentin was trying to give him some one on one time with her. At the very least it made Shannon like him more, not that she didn't adore him already. His saving Liam had made him a hero in her books.

The ball was already crowded by the time they got there. Quentin disappeared into the crowd. Eliot started to doubt whether he should mention his feelings. Maybe Quentin didn't want him back. Maybe he was trying to avoid him because he knew what Eliot planned and didn't want to hurt his feelings.

It was a risk he would have to take. He finally found Quentin loitering near the punch. He didn't look too happy. Out on the floor, couples were dancing to the band playing holiday music. “Q, dance with me?”

Quentin looked unsure. “Um,”

Eliot held out his hand, silently prayed to whatever gods there might be that Quentin would take it.

“Okay.” Quentin took his hand. Eliot cheered inwardly.

They made their way to the dance floor. Eliot put an arm around Quentin's waist and linked their fingers together on his other hand. Quentin hesitantly put an arm around his neck. He seemed nervous. Eliot could relate.

“I had a talk with Dustin.”

Quentin glanced up at him. “Yeah?”

“He wants to propose to Kayla. He asked me how I knew you were the one. Then I realized, you are the one, Q. The one for me. It's you. It's always been you. I don't know when it started, but I love you. I'm in love with you. I have been for a long time now.”

Quentin gaped up at Eliot. “You're in love with me?”

“Completely.”

Quentin's face broke into a smile. “You don't know how long I've been waiting to hear you say that.”

Before Eliot could speak Quentin had grabbed him by his lapels and pulled him down into a searing kiss. Eliot held him close and basked in the glow. Quentin pulled back and looked up him, smile dopey and eyes shining. “I love you, Eliot Waugh.”

“And I love you, Quentin Coldwater.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'd love to hear what you think, but like always there's no pressure to comment


End file.
